


drift to you

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2434739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's casually invading Gerard's personal space, and he's suddenly a lot more interesting than the movie. (Or: in the early days of the band, Ray and Gerard sentimentally and kinkily make out on on a couch.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	drift to you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [friends we know like fallout vapors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1251751) by [mirrorchord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirrorchord/pseuds/mirrorchord). 



> With thanks to mirrorchord, who made me ship it, and showed me some really excellent footage of baby MCR that provided some ideas.

They sit on the couch in companionable silence, letting the movie wash over them. The couch’s sagging cushions tip them gradually together; Gerard finds himself curled against Ray’s side, and goes with it.

Ray’s arm slides around him; he feels Ray pet him absently, hand big and warm through his t-shirt.

After a while, Ray’s arm descends to the level of Gerard’s waist. This is, not coincidentally, the point at which Gerard realizes he’s paying more attention to Ray than to the movie.

Ray’s still petting him with a slow, heavy hand, and the hem of Gerard’s shirt has rucked up just enough to allow one bright spot of skin contact.

The thing is, Ray has to know what he’s doing, and the idea that he’s deliberately sneaking his fingers up under Gerard’s shirt, touching him so possessively, is…well, it’s a lot.

Gerard feels his face heating. He wants to move, but he doesn’t want to discourage Ray. He kind of wants to see what else he has in mind.

He shifts, after a few moments, because he really does need to change positions. He curls closer to Ray, emphasizing that he’s okay with being touched. Ray is warm and solid and smells good, a friendly, familiar smell.

Ray makes a pleased humming sound and squeezes him closer. His grip slides under Gerard’s shirt, and Gerard stifles a gasp.

Ray’s got a solid handful of his hip now, and…well. It’s the kind of hold you use when you want to drag someone further onto your cock, in Gerard’s opinion (or maybe just his fevered imagination).

Gerard glances over to Ray’s face; Ray seems to be focused on the screen, but after a moment he catches Gerard’s eye.

Ray smiles at him, and all Gerard can see is the promise in his generous mouth. He smiles back, feeling completely dazed.

The hand on Gerard’s hip tightens, hard. This time, he gasps.

Ray’s smile deepens. Gerard can’t stop looking at him. Ray has—kind of a cavedwelling look to him, usually, kind of pale and raw-eyed. That’s not a bad thing—Gerard’s all for creepy things. Right now he looks a little bit evil in a way that goes right to Gerard’s dick. Evil, with a pretty mouth.

Ray licks his lips and drives his blunt guitar-calloused fingertips into Gerard’s soft flesh, five hard points. He keeps eye contact with Gerard as he does, taking in his pained expression.

When Ray’s grip eases, Gerard says, “Wow.” It just pops out of his mouth, reverent and a little stupid.

“Yeah,” says Ray, who looks about the same. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Gerard says, grinning like an idiot, and he leans in close. Ray’s lips are just as pillow-soft as they look. He opens his mouth a bit—too soon, maybe, but he wants—and then Ray’s tongue greets his. Gerard’s stomach flips.

They kiss slow at first, lazy caresses of tongue and soft lips that light up Gerard’s nerves, and then Ray grabs a handful of his hair and Gerard shoves his tongue into Ray’s mouth on sheer instinct.

Ray pulls back for a moment, eyes hard and intent. “C’mon,” he says, low, and pulls at Gerard’s hair again.

Gerard whines into his mouth. He feels dizzy and overheated and terrifyingly, deliciously helpless.

Ray breaks their kiss, mumbles, “God,” against Gerard’s lips. “You’re so—”

He pauses. Gerard squirms.

“I didn’t know you were like this,” Ray says, and drags him in again.

Between the sting of Ray’s intermittent yanks on his hair and the delicate slickness of his mouth, Gerard loses himself. He’s having trouble with words; he’s feeling as completely transmuted as he would onstage: all heat and desperate willingness.

Ray’s hand works into the back of his jeans, squeezing his ass. Bare hot skin against bare hot skin, and it’s too much for Gerard, makes him whine.

“God damn it,” says Ray, sounding vicious, and then he bodily drags Gerard into his lap. Gerard settles onto him, legs spread over Ray’s bigger, broader thighs and. God, he can’t think, he can feel Ray’s dick pressing up under him.

Ray’s hips rock, and Gerard meets him halfway.

“Yeah?” Ray says. “D’you—do you want that?”

“Yes,” says Gerard, and blunt hot pain explodes in his shoulder as Ray bites into him.

“You’re so good,” Ray groans, and presses Gerard’s hips down into his. “What the hell, I never thought—can I please, can I hurt you, do you want that?”

Gerard nods frantically, and Ray rakes brutal hands down his thighs.

“God, of course you want it, you’re just so—fuck, Gerard, I wanna call you names, can I call you names?”

“Please,” Gerard pants. _Anything,_ he doesn’t manage to say.

“You’re so—” Ray gulps, then manages to sound amazed and embarrassed and cruel all at one. “You’re so _slutty,_ Gerard, holy fuck.”

Somehow Gerard summons up enough brain cells to smile at Ray, dazzling and cockeyed, and slur, “Anything you want.”

Ray is a truly astonishing shade of pink when he says, “I want to fuck you.” Like Gerard wouldn’t want that, like there’s some reason to be embarrassed of that— “I want to hurt you with my dick—god, I sound ridiculous and I don’t care—no, but Gee, I want to treat you like shit and have you like it.”

Gerard falls against him, helpless, wanting.

“Yeah?” Ray pulls at his hair, shaking him out of it.

“Oh god, Ray, please…” Gerard can’t even fucking see, that’s how turned on he is, and then Ray rolls his hips up hard and slow.

“Like that,” he grinds out. “Screw you fuckin’ _senseless—”_

Gerard wails, “Yes,” or something like it and then Ray presses his palm between Gerard’s thighs with something very like a snarl. Gerard jolts forward into the pressure, dizzily thinking _this is Ray touching me, he’s touching my cock._ As firsts go, this is pretty fucking awesome.

Ray’s broad, strong hand covers him, strokes up and down the length of his dick through his worn jeans, and then before Gerard can quite process what’s happening, Ray’s hand is at his mouth.

He opens up, and there’s three thick fingers stretching out his lips—he licks them, tries to take them deeper, but they’re already pulling back.

Ray's hand slips back down the back of his jeans, fingers wet with Gerard’s spit, and then...god. Ray cradles his ass, and his fingertips press up against Gerard’s hole. It’s a gentle pressure, slick and easy, but he feels—he feels overwhelmed, burning head to foot.

“Fuck,” Gerard says, ragged, and Ray breathes out against his ear almost like a laugh. He can feel his body trying to take Ray’s fingers in, he can feel how infinitely delicate his flesh is under the rough pads of Ray’s fingers.

Ray pets at him, and Gerard sinks forward into his shoulder, breathing hard.

“Put…put your fingers in me,” he mumbles.

“I can’t,” says Ray, a smile in his voice. “No lube.” But he doesn’t stop touching Gerard there, doesn’t stop circling over him, and Gerard gasps into Ray’s shoulder and takes it. He’s so—all he can think about is how Ray should shove something inside him, fingers, cock, anything. His dick aches; he can feel himself dripping, soaking a wet spot into his underwear.

“Stop teasing,” Gerard says breathlessly. Ray nips at his shoulder and laughs, very quietly. Underneath the vee of Gerard’s legs, Ray’s hips shift, rubbing up. Ray’s dick is pretty goddamn obvious through his jeans at this point, a hard welcome shape.

Ray’s hand vanishes briefly; Gerard dimly notices Ray spitting on his fingers and then he’s being touched again, more insistent this time. He can feel his body gripping at the very tip of Ray’s finger, sensitive and strange and spit-wet, and a keening noise rises in his throat, not quite making it out. He rocks forward, then back, trying to get more friction on either his ass or dick.

“Greedy,” says Ray. “God, look at you.” His free hand settles in Gerard’s hair, guides him forward, and then they’re kissing again. Gerard opens his mouth and meets Ray’s tongue with his. God, Ray’s trying to fuck his mouth, which sometimes isn’t as hot as a delicate interplay of tongues, but now it’s the best thing he could do. Gerard kisses back, aware he’s whining, aware Ray’s actually pushing inside him, just a tiny bit.

He might come from this. He might come from his friend manhandling him and teasing him and just fucking making out with him on the couch.

Ray yanks his hair, sending sharp sweet pain along his bones, and eases his finger deeper into Gerard. It’s a little dry, now—spit is _not_ good lube—and it burns. Sweat pops out along Gerard’s back, and he gasps against Ray’s mouth.

“You okay?” Ray asks, lips moving against his.

“Yeah. Hurts,” Gerard tells him.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” says Ray, bringing his hand around to brush sweat-damp hair off Gerard’s forehead. It’s such a sweet gesture that Gerard wants to curl forward against him and _stay._ And he tries to, but he can only move so far with Ray’s grip on (and in) his ass, and anyway moving forward means that he rubs against Ray’s dick, and then all he can think about is how fucking painfully aroused he is.

“Ray?”

“Yeah?” Ray mouths along his neck, biting, kissing, making talking difficult.

“Please,” says Gerard, which seems to cover most things he wants to say.

“Please what?” says Ray, cheerful. He curls his hand just a little, pushing deeper into Gerard, and Gerard arches in startlement.

“More,” he says breathlessly. “Shit, I don’t know, anything.” He wants Ray to fucking push him facedown on the couch and fuck him for real; he wants Ray to tease him about what a mess he’s made of himself with his dick; he wants Ray to fuck his mouth until he comes just from being used.

Ray’s eyes go hooded, and the hand that isn’t on Gerard’s ass digs sharply into Gerard’s upper arm. “Anything?”

“God, yeah, please,” Gerard assures him. “Just…” _Make me feel ashamed of myself, make me feel dirty, make me feel yours, make me come._ “Do what you want with me,” he says breathlessly.

Ray surges under him, pulling him down, pulling him closer. All Gerard can feel is the pressure on his cock, the jolt and sensitivity right inside his hole. He whines and grinds forward into Ray.

“Wanna fuck me?” he manages.

“Yeah,” Ray sighs. “I wanna know what you’re like, Gee, so pretty.” His free hand closes around the back of Gerard’s neck, big and strong; Gerard’s eyes fall closed.

It’s so easy to imagine himself pinned down underneath Ray, and he fucking wants it. “Get me on my back,” he says faintly, “and I’ll show you.”

The fingertip in his ass withdraws. “Ow!” Gerard says—it was too quick.

“You okay?” Ray says, nuzzling him apologetically.

“Yeah.” The pain is receding, leaving him buzzing all over. “Let’s go.”

Ray heaves him up, standing up as he goes—how the hell is he managing this, aren’t his legs jelly?—and then he drops Gerard on his back on the couch with a flumph, rolls down on top of him. His weight and warmth and scent are overwhelming.

Weak and shaky with need, Gerard wraps his arms around Ray. He’s keenly fucking aware of how wide open his legs are, of how heavy Ray feels on him, of how vulnerable he is.

“Fuck me,” he begs.

 _“God,”_ snarls Ray, and then he thrusts up against Gerard, and Gerard shuts his eyes and lets his imagination take over.

“Hurt me,” he gasps. “C’mon, just do it, I’m here for you, I want—” Ray grabs a handful of his hip, painfully tight on the softness he has there, and thrusts again. “Yeah, fuck, just drag me down on your cock. You wanna see me desperate? Keep fucking me, I’ll come without even being—ah, fuck—without being touched—”

God, Ray’s so big and strong and Gerard feels—he feels every inch of it now. The drag of Ray’s cock through their clothes is killing him, and all he wants is to get him off, to be opened up for him. Hurt. Used.

He lets his head fall back, and he whines the way he does when he has privacy and can get himself off the way he likes.

“Holy fuck,” Ray says reverently, and grinds down hard. “Is—is that what you’d be like?”

Gerard gasps and tries to hook his legs around Ray’s hips. “Yeah,” he manages. “Yeah, like that, so…” He wants to make more noise, be more pathetic, so he does. Pants and tries to get out words and just fucking whimpers.

“Ray?” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for.

Ray bites him hard. “Gee, you’re so good,” he breathes. “Just letting me—”

And that’s a thought, just _letting_ Ray, like he’s not supposed to let anyone have it. Gerard squirms under him, aching.

“Good boy,” Ray says against his throat. “You fucking dirty little thing—”

Whining, Gerard humps up into him, and Ray levers his hips up for better friction and then it’s like sliding downhill, it’s easy like a fucking wet dream, and Gerard’s probably leaking a wet spot through his jeans—

“Just fucking take my dick,” Ray orders him. “Just fucking sit there and take it even if it hurts—it’ll hurt, baby, I promise—”

Gerard cries out against his shoulder, tries to cling.

“Sit still,” Ray pants, voice heavy with cruelty. The shake in his muscles is bleeding through to Gerard’s own, his thighs are going tight. “Just fucking let me use you, Gee, c’mon, show me how bad you need it—”

Ray talking dirty is so hot he’s going to black out, or come.

“Just think about what it’s going to feel like when we do this for real, and I beat the hell out of you first just to fucking warm you up for it, you fucking whore, you’re gonna show me how desperate you are—”

He’s so fucking close he can taste it. “Want you in me,” Gerard says, hearing how needy it is as he says it. “In me, please, Ray, please, oh fuck—”

“Gonna get me off,” Ray groans, and he’s fucking up into Gerard hard enough that the entire sofa creaks. “Tell me you need it, please, Gee, tell me you want me to.”

“Please come,” Gerard gasps obediently, “Ray, please, please—” His dick twitches, and he knows—he’s about to come, the way he just fucking gushed precome, wet and dirty— “Ray,” he whines, “I’m so wet for you, fucking please, please, please…”

Ray’s hands close savagely on either side of his waist and his back arches and that’s it, he’s coming on top of Gerard and all Gerard can think about is Ray using him to get off, being Ray’s fucktoy, his thing, _his._ Ray’s deep gasps are a thing of goddamn wonder and beauty.

Shaking, Ray reaches down between them and grabs Gerard’s dick through his jeans. It’s not careful, it’s not sensual; it hurts and Gerard shakes and yelps and comes his damn brains out. He shudders though it, so glad to be so wrecked, glorying in the messy teenage feeling of coming in his pants.

He curls up to Ray instinctively, after, rolling himself into a ball. Ray holds him, kisses his forehead and his sweaty hair, and whispers, “Thank you.”

Gerard hasn’t ever been thanked after sex before, but yeah, he’s deep-in-his-bones grateful that Ray wanted to go there with him. “No,” he mumbles, “Thank _you.”_ And he knows, without having to ask, that they’re going to do this again, that Ray isn’t going anywhere.


End file.
